sunday scribblings

I liked to read words on a sunday
and feel them slip-slide down my throat.
it's rather like drinking a large glass of milk
which has curdled
or plunging into a pool of mud
which is bottomless. I used to
taste words as I read them but
now I find I prefer to
down them quickly.
Eyes across a page, fingers on a spine
I collect hollows without meanings.

"collector personality"